What if the most important conversation of your life is the one you’ve never truly had ― with yourself?
The portal for that conversation is introspection.
And am I really alone in feeling like no one ever fucking told me this shit even exists?
Before we can change our lives, or forgive ourselves, or even begin to heal,
we have to learn to meet the many voices within us.
This is the real work, and it’s not for the faint of heart.
But if you want genuine freedom, the first step isn’t to find answers ―
it’s to ask honest questions, and to listen with radical courage.
I do not have quick fixes for you. Only a journey of a lifetime.
If you don’t learn to talk to yourself, you’ll spend your life living someone else’s story.
Introspection isn’t self-indulgence—it’s the only path to genuine agency, forgiveness, and growth.
I’m not offering hacks.
I’m offering a gauntlet.
“God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change
the courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference.” ― the Serenity Prayer
It’s Messy—And That’s the Point
It did not take long for me to unknowingly introspect.
I did it before I knew what I was doing.
It felt right.
At first, my goal was simple: to understand exactly what had happened and how I had reached this breaking point.
The simplest way to think about all I had experienced was to imagine myself talking to myself about someone else.
I looked at myself as if I was a third person.
Seriously, try it. It reveals something rather interesting:
how quickly we judge others with precision, but struggle to do this to ourselves.
This approach gave me the courage to be more honest and critical about all my shortcomings and mistakes, it provided a feeling of detachment which allowed me to not wallow in despair.
As I was delving my mind, thinking about all sorts of situations I had been in concerning my ex and playing them back in my mind, I had a somewhat silent but present partners who accompanied me. Turned out they had never been silent,
but speaking in a language I had not considered.
The more I processed, the more they talked in this unknown language, and
the more disgusted I was at what I was witnessing.
Who is this?
Why are they acting this way?
Saying these things?
What are they thinking?
And then I realised what the language was they had been communicating with ― emotion.
“Why the fuck am I being so judgmental?
They’re clearly suffering, why am I adding more on top of it?
I am clearly suffering.
Why am I adding more?”
I needed several weeks to fully process my mental landscape and to piece together the fragmented memories.
I was harshly judgmental at this figure that represented me, because I had let myself down.
As I kept going I took the time to think about what I had found within my thoughts.
How certain events led to others, how specific behaviours and reactions caused me to lash out.
I began to think, why was that the case?
Why did small, even mundane issues anger me this much?
Why had I let myself be egged on?
My silent partners gave me some nudges from time to time, sharp feelings, and it took a while to understand what they were trying
to say.
I was to blame for my actions, not her.
A relationship is a two-way street, yes, but at the end of the day,
what I do and say is up to me.
Finally, the silence broke:
this is how it unfolded,
this is why ― accept it.
I had finally admitted to myself that there is nothing more I could do.
And before I knew it, the anger I had felt against myself turned into sorrow. This has all already happened.
Why am I still torturing myself?
It was like gripping broken glass,
hoping it would turn into something else,
but instead just made me bleed.
Explaining And Defining Introspection
We all have our problems. Some of them worse, some better.
Some problems will fucking destroy you.
There’s no point to compare who got the worst end of the shitstick, what matters is what do we do when we’re beaten with it.
Do we fight back?
What is productive fighting?
Why do we think it is fighting in the first place?
There’s an over-romanticized idea of suffering and how it is supposed to transform you and whatever. Growth doesn’t happen during the storm,
it’s after. And that storm does not have to be suffering. How do you quell that inner hurricane of everything that went wrong?
By walking into it and letting it speak. The storm is raging within, say the words. Feel them.
Oxford dictionary says introspection is “the examination or observation of one’s own mental and emotional processes.”
To me this does not capture the depth of the idea at all.
It’s one thing to monitor and analyse your mental situation,
but this feels more like fully engaging with it.
We’re gonna have to redefine what it actually means.
Deliberate cognitive disassociation ― treat your thoughts and feelings as if they come from someone else,
so you can actually hear them, not just react to them.
Let go of the idea that the mind that is suffering is you. It is a mind within
you, a seat on the council. Look at the thoughts and feelings and realize: they are not you.
Purposely treat your thought as if they are the words of someone else.
But stop fighting against what it is trying to tell you.
Multiplicity: Meet Your Inner World
You are a collection of rules accumulated through time that navigates this physical world, and contacts other minds
externally.
And if you are anything like what I was, you have been blind to the fact that just as there are people outside of you,
there is a whole realm inside yourself.
Rules of survival.
Cultural conditioning.
Inherited values and opinions of others.
Roles.
Beliefs.
Emotional residues.
Habits.
Memories.
Internalized voices.
Fantasies and projections.
Archetypes and myths.
Unconscious biases.
Aspirations and desires.
Shame and guilt.
Trauma.
And much of it you’ve never explored to see if they should even be there.
There are many thinkers in your consciousness, and they all want you, the one who walks this Earth, to hear them out.
Talk to them.
Introspection is the gateway to noticing that your headspace is full of other things that think.
Mind multiplicity seems self-evident to me. Maybe the experience of it is different for you.
For me, it feels like a council ― sometimes arguing, sometimes negotiating, sometimes silent.
Other days, more like an orchestra.
Some days, like a walk in a park with an old friend.
Stargazing.
The multiplicity morphs.
Shamans talk about animal guides or ancestors. Some people meet parts, sub-personalities, or inner critics. It’s all the same.
Unity in division, and division in unity.
When you turn inward, what do you find?
Is it a council? A crowd? A single voice? An animal?
Alan Watts smoking a joint with a pink octopus playing kick-drums?
What does your “inner parliament” look or sound like ― if you even have one?
You don’t have to call it a council, a parliament, an orchestra, or anything at all.
But next time you’re lost in thought, pause and ask:
Who, or what, is actually speaking? Who’s listening?
Try meeting your inner world on its own terms.
You might be surprised by who (or what) shows up.
Insight Out: What Pixar Got Right
Introspection isn’t just navel-gazing.
It’s the hardest, realest, most courageous thing you’ll ever do.
It’s a council session with every ghost, hope, lie, and truth you’ve carried.
And it’s the only way you’ll ever get out of the storm and back to the work of becoming.
Imagine the Pixar movie “Inside Out” where Riley is being controlled by emotions. There’s a literal terminal and the emotions all use the terminal to influence Riley’s reactions.
Feels sort of like how it is, right?
Introspection would be like this:
Riley feels Sadness do something.
She lifts her head up.
And then she appears right next to the terminal, sees Sadness and says:
“Hey, what’s up? You’re sad. Would you like to talk about it?”
And then Riley and Sadness talk it out, with the possibility of everyone else joining in on the conversation.
But the dialogue that happens is an entirely different matter.
But the first step: show up. This is the heart of introspection.
The point is this: how are we supposed to get along, if we keep ignoring the multiplicity within? If we cannot talk to ourselves and resolve our issues without inner violence, how are we supposed to be able to do this outside our own minds?
Looking within is scary for a reason:
We’re afraid of what we’ll find, and sometimes we don’t like what we hear.
Introspection is a skill ― hard at first, but it gets easier with practice.
After you sit with your inner council, take time to reflect:
How did this make me feel?
What thoughts or surprises surfaced?
Let your experience settle.
With time, you’ll notice your understanding deepens,
and the inner world becomes less overwhelming.
Talk to your council.
Listen closely.
Try to understand what each part is really saying.
And when you’re ready, gently ask:
Why is that so?
And they will respond.
Before you begin, leave three things outside the door:
First, judgment.
Second, bad manners.
Third, the urge to interrupt.
If you give these voices the attention they deserve, they’ll eventually give you back the space for your own thoughts ―
unhindered, and finally clear.
Who Is Holding the Suitcase?
Think about your daily life, your routine.
How you might brush your teeth, take a shower, have breakfast, go to work,
have lunch…
Now do all of this while holding a 40kg suitcase in the other hand, all day long.
What would you do?
Would you let go?
Sounds reasonable — put the suitcase down and release your grip on the handle. Simple.
But how does one let go of the crushing guilt of what they’ve done and all the self-loathing that accompanies it?
How do you let go of the trauma inflicted upon you by others?
What you did to others?
Where the hell even is this hand that holds it??
You try to find that hand which grips the suitcase in your mind.
However, instead of forcing the hand to let it go, open it.
Look at the contents, all of it and try to understand why is the hand gripping it so tightly.
How much of it is your fault?
Does it even matter whose fault it was?
What is even the point of blame?
Let’s say this blame is assigned, why is your hand still holding it?
These things happened, they cannot be changed, nothing will undo them.
However, now that you have opened that damn suitcase and accepted the fact that this is what it is, what is stopping you from moving on?
Forgiveness is a funny thing. If you tell someone to forgive someone, and they reply “No” then that’s that.
Forgiveness cannot happen if you are unwilling to do so.
At present, I would say: “Why wouldn’t you? These feelings you hold by choice
is like taking poison and expecting them to die because of it.”
But I remember what it was like not knowing this and I understand.
A common misconception about forgiving someone is that by doing so you are diminishing the pain you received,
or the impact of what happened,
or absolving the ones who deserve to be punished.
It’s easy to be a victim, it’s easy to blame others for your misfortune, it requires no effort to find fault in anything but in yourself.
Paradoxically it also means it’s incredibly easy to blame yourself to death because in your eyes you never stop being the victim.
The one who hurt you is with you the entire time.
So how the fuck do I forgive myself if I hate myself?
Forgiveness Isn’t Letting Go—It’s Setting Yourself Free
Forgiveness has never been about letting others or yourself off the hook, it’s about freeing yourself from the despair and anguish you feel.
I realised I have to forgive myself and at the same time there have to be consequences, because I was both the victim and
the perpetrator.
How do I hold myself accountable?
How does it make you feel that you have to forgive yourself, and having to take responsibility at the same time? One implies that you let go of the anger, the hate, all the negativity. Does being held accountable mean the same thing as being punished?
Or does that mean admitting that you’ve done the things you’ve done?
What happened to me already had real world consequences.
Understanding this made forgiving myself much easier, but coming to this realisation still demanded me to shift my perspective.
Asking questions from a different angle can have a drastic change on the answer you receive.
I wanted to be punished, but why?
And why did I not see that I already had been?
When facing these questions, I felt extremely uncomfortable.
After all, who wants to admit how wrong they had been?
When facing this feeling it’s natural to recoil, but at that moment I took a look at myself once more and instead chose to lean into that discomfort and do the unthinkable and accept what I had done.
It was the very same thing I had blamed my father for: I had walked away on my own child.
So I arrived at a conclusion — this is why I want to be punished.
I have already faced the consequences of my actions.
I need to forgive myself.
What did I learn from all of this?
Now, this is the right question to ask.
If I can forgive myself, I need to forgive my father as well, because if my situation is not black and white in my eyes,
how could his have been?
I saw the same complexity in his situation as I saw in mine.
It’s a pattern.
I had identified a way to see how not only my own actions have repeated in time and how they are linked,
but also how the actions of others have influenced me.
With this revelation, I understood, finally.
My past mistakes were not isolated issues, but a pattern I had to break.
How do I break the pattern?
The answer is ridiculously short.
Change.
But how do you even begin?
How do you balance self-acceptance,
and knowing you also want to change?
Patterns, Pain, and the Power to Change
As I spent time getting to know myself better and understanding how certain things irritated me, I began to sense a subtle change.
I could no longer ignore the fact that I am conscious about my own consciousness and this realisation helped me discover something that changed everything.
When I got the urge to lash out, my own consciousness gave me pause, as if I were embarrassed to do so in front of it.
Don’t, it whispered.
Something in me had learned. I had gained an ally, helping me do what I actually want to do: become better.
At that moment, I realized I could choose my next step. To perhaps, not even react at all.
And what is more, to even notice that this moment happened at all.
I wanted to lash out, and I chose not to.
And that I could come back to this moment later and ask myself, why did I feel this way.
And I knew this is the way, this is how to try and become better.
Just because I had found the answer does not mean I gained total proficiency in it.
It took me an embarrassingly long time to articulate the actual truth:
the mind is multiple minds, not one.
This journey of introspection, reflection and identifying underlying patterns takes time and this was only the beginning.
But these revelations showed me something:
I can change if I want to.
If I can, so can others.
If you take the time to look inward through introspection,
reflect on the dialogue with yourself,
and look for patterns,
the possibilities become endless.
Especially when you take those findings and begin to live them out.
The story of my introduction to introspection showed me how little I truly understood myself then.
What I’ve written so far merely shows how my journey of healing began, because it took years.
I will never forget what happened and how deep of a scar they left in me.
But what changed is my perspective on it.
I had a choice: do I let this keep defining me,
do I leave the pieces of my psyche lying on the floor,
or do I do something about it.
I chose to do something without knowing what it is.
I could not have reached that point without the help of others
who provided me the space and time to take this journey.
But introspection was something only I could do, no one else.
And because of it, whenever thoughts of this time period enter into my mind, I no longer feel weakened or depressed or guilty.
They’re merely a reminder of where I’ve been and where I am now, an old friend who comes to visit, to reminisce.
Serenity (But Not from God): The Wisdom Inside
At its core, the Serenity Prayer mirrors the very tension I grappled with —
the balance between acceptance and action,
and the clarity I was so desperately seeking.
Introspection became the crucible in which I began to test its wisdom,
discovering how to discern what I could change and what I had to let go of.
I invite you to take the Serenity Prayer, that timeless piece of wisdom, and remove “God” from it.
Replace it with your own inner resolve.
Find the strength to seek the answers within yourself —
because no one else except you can. The courage to change the things you can, the serenity to accept the things you cannot,
and the wisdom to know the difference — these are not gifts from the outside.
They are tools waiting within,
forged by your own introspection,
reflection,
acceptance of the past,
and understanding: it does not have to define the future.
Accept the fact that you have multiple minds within you. This is out of your control.
Find the courage to change your relationship with them. These minds live your life alongside you.
That is the wisdom. Don’t shut them off. Talk to them, be kind to them.
We are not one mind.
We are many, and the self is multiple yet one.
Unity in division, and division in unity.
It’s not about training or technique.
It’s about radical inner compassion.
Listen to what your many selves are trying to tell you —
with honesty, openness, and a true willingness to hear.
When they speak, don’t just nod — ask more.
Let every voice have its turn.
Be the one who’s willing, because no one else can do it for you.
If you don’t learn to talk to yourself, there is a good chance you will spend your entire life hostage to patterns you inherited,
reactions you never questioned, and stories you never wrote. You will be the passenger, not the driver.
The unexamined mind is not just a missed opportunity — it’s a life half-lived by default,
sleepwalking through inherited pain and automatic scripts.
What most people call introspection is often just mental noise — rumination, self-flagellation, rehearsing the same grievances,
or constructing excuses.
True introspection is an act of creation: a willingness to sit with your discomfort and your possibility,
to ask not just ‘what happened’ but ‘what is possible now?’
The many make up the one.
So choose:
Will your inner world be tyranny, anarchy, or a radical democracy — where every voice is heard, and none are left behind?
The world is full of people who can’t have a conversation with themselves.
Please, don’t be one of them.
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